“Yeah. A flying machine, Hal,” she clarifies in return. I’m still stupefied, however.

“That’s probably not good,” responds Uncle from the alcove that is the steering hub just on the other side of the partition separating it from the dinner table, as I am already making my way onto the deck in the hope of seeing what Yoll saw.

Good as gold, Yoll is, as I can clearly see a metallic-looking dragonfly-looking craft…

Coming right for us…

My strong heart literally skips a beat, as I scamper madly back toward the cabin. Colliding head-on with Yoll, who was just making her way back out. My momentum causes us both to crash against the now-closed wooden door.

Without hardly any chance on my part to even conceive of my next move, let alone to process it and much less carry it out, I feel something grab gruffly at my backside. The force of whoever had grabbed me, pulling me up and away, was apparently enough to knock me out.

My very last recollection being Yolua’s squeal of terror in my face, and her clutching to my neck, as we were both whisked away in a flash…